What the Fishsticks
by SarahTonin
Summary: A crack tragedy in which everything that Jackson Hanning loves dies at the hands of an under appreciated, impatient and probably slightly insane fanfic author...I mean, would be nation country...*insert evil smile* Rated M because some of the scenes might get rather violent and I just want to be safe. It will be a rather mild M. You brought this on yourself, Jackson.
1. First Kill

**AN: If you're wondering what exactly prompted this sad sick tale, you should blame Jackson Hanning and his story, Changed. For further understanding, you should read his fanfic and my reviews. You would know that he was warned and that he wrote exactly what he should not have written. And when I say this is a crack tragedy, I really mean it. Various things are going to die, and only I know what and why. Jackson probably knows who is going to die. He'll just have to look at the things closest to his heart.**

He sat the plate down in front of me. Angry disappointment flooded through me. This is not what I had asked for lunch.

"I thought I said I wanted lobster with cream sauce," I said deliberately.

"One," the man with the big fuzzy eyebrows said, "it's not like I can't make it, I just don't want to. Two, I don't have time to make it. Three, shut up and eat your fishsticks. I am too busy to deal with your complaining. I still have to find someone to babysit you."

"I don't need anyone to babysit. I'm a big strong country."

"Sealand, how many times do I have to tell you, you are not a country. You never have and you probably never will. I don't trust you to just sit around here while I go visit America. Who knows what sort of mischief you'll get up to. Now eat!" England said. He was running every which way around his house.

"I don't want to. One of them might be your eyebrows." I picked up two of them and brought them to my face for emphasis. I couldn't understand why England would leave me all alone. It was like he loved America more than me. Even I knew you weren't supposed to show favoritism towards brothers.

England came close and pointed his finger at me. His gigantic eyebrows knitted together. "Your eyebrows are the same size as mine. And they are not big." He hated it when I commented on his eyebrows. "Now stop playing with your food, and eat already!"

When he left, I dropped the fishsticks onto the plate. They made a loud clunking noise. They had been cold to the touch. There was no way I was going to eat this crap. Was England so big of an idiot that he didn't realize that you have to COOK frozen fishsticks?

I was furious. I hated fishsticks, and I hated England. And this annoying bird that landed near my plate. His loud happy chirping was juxtaposing my increasingly bad mood.

I clenched the fishstick and brought it down on his yellow fluffy body. The blow hadn't killed him. Rather, it kept him paralyzed. He chirped out in distress, begging for help from anybody.

I smashed the fishstick on him again and again, bludgeoning the life out of the helpless bird. The fishstick finally broke apart, exposing white bits of fish flesh stained red by little birdie blood.

The red and yellow did not mix. No orange could be seen in sight. The small fluffy yellow feathers that came loose were matted down to the table by blood. Bright red and other darker colors oozed out of the dead bird and stained the white tablecloth. I was surprised what little blood the bird actually had. I placed the sad excuse for a fishstick beside the sad excuse for a bird.

"Sealand, I hope you...what the bloody hell?! What happened!?"

England rushed to the bird's side. His hands hovered helplessly above the bird, knowing that there was nothing he could do to bring the poor creature back to life.

"It was horrible, England!" A few theatrical tears came to my eyes. "I gave a bite of my fishsticks to the widdle bird, and he basically exploded right in front of me! That could have been me! I think your cooking somehow managed to get worse."

England was stunned. "How...I...I didn't even do anything! Oh hell, Prussia's going to kill me when he finds out."

England pulled out a small envelope that had been caked and hidden in the blood. He disdainfully opened it and read the contents.

"Great, and it looks like he can't babysit you either."

"Good. I don't want to be watched by a wannabe country anyway," I said.

"That's rich coming from you. Wait, it looks like Prussia knows someone who might be able to look after you." England read a bit further. He grabbed my arm and dragged me off the chair.

"Ow! England, you big meanie!"

"Come along, Sealand. I've got to get you all the way to Finland's, and my workload has just increased."

We left his house just like that. Gilbird's blood left soaking through the thin tablecloth and staining the wood table.


	2. Couple Killer

"Are you sure you don't want to play outside, Sealand? It's a beautiful day!"

"No," I said simply. I had just started to get comfortable on Finland's couch. It was so cold here. I had the blanket cocooned around me while I stared mindlessly at the tv. Why in the world would I want to go outside where it's colder? Especially when the Power Rangers was on.

"Okay, well if you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen." Finland shuffled away.

I don't know why, but I was still rather angry. England had just ditched me here. Adrenaline was still flowing in my veins. I enjoyed killing that little bird more than I should have. And I didn't even mind. I found that I liked this edge.

I vaguely disregarded the opening and closing of a door. The Power Rangers were joining together to make their final form.

"T's good'show," a deep voice said directly behind me.

I flinched and whipped my head around. Sweden was leaning over the couch. He had just come from outside, so he still had on his coat and gloves. Bits of snowflakes that had landed on his clothes were beginning to melt.

"Oh, there you are Sweden! I'm in the kitchen!" Finland called out. Sweden sauntered off to where he was called.

The walls here were thin. I suppose that was why it was so cold. It also meant I could hear their hushed voices.

"Sw-Sweden, stop it! Sealand...he's just in the next room!" Finland sad breathlessly.

"T's f'ne. U'r m'wife," Sweden said.

"I'm not your wife...please, Sweden? Sealand has had a hard enough day already."

Sweden grunted in submission. Finland gasped for air, and then I heard their footsteps bring themselves apart from each other.

"Oh, um, do you think you could go out and get more firewood? I think Sealand is cold," Finland asked.

Sweden grunted in affirmation. Wh't 're y'makin?"

"Just some fish. I figured Sealand could use a break from England's cooking," Finland chuckled a bit.

"It sm'lls g'd."

The back door opened and closed again as Sweden went back outside. My program ended and I turned off the tv. I could hear the sizzle and bubble of oil from the frying pan.

I was furious. Finland, who was almost a complete stranger to me had the common courtesy to make hot fish for me while my own brother had abandoned me with nothing but frozen fishsticks. My feet went to the cold floor, and I made my way to the kitchen. I still had the blanket wrapped around me.

Finland turned his head when he saw me. He blushed and used his hand to cover up the bruise like hickey on the curve of his neck.

"Oh, hello Sealand. Do you need anything? You're shaking. You must be cold. Sweden just went out to get more firewood. Dinner will be ready in just a bit."

I ignored his words of concern. My attention was drawn to the counter. The cutting board was littered with bits of fresh fish remains. I picked up the long knife.

"Sealand! Be careful with that! It's rather sharp..."

Finland came closer and reached to take the knife from me. What he didn't expect was for me to take a step closer and plunge the knife into his heart.

His face remained frozen in a state of surprise. He gave a few small gasps and slid to the floor. This was more like it. Humans had so much more blood. Finland's blood pooled out around my feet. I splashed in it a bit, the edge of the blanket also getting soaked in blood.

The door opened. Several logs of wood clunked to the floor.

"F'nl'nd!" Sweden exclaimed.

He kneeled beside his friend, the knees of his pants joining me in the blood bath. He stayed there speechless, knowing but unwilling to believe that Finland was gone. The Finland that he had only held moments before.

If it was possible, Sweden's face became scarier with bitter anger and grief. He could see that there was only one person who could have done this. Yet, he didn't want to believe that his innocent Finland had been taken away by a child.

Before he could get up ad apprehend me, I grabbed the pan that was on the stove. It was heavy, but I managed to swing it around and have it connect with Sweden's face.

He screamed. His glasses were knocked off his face, and he fell to the floor. He writhed as the cooking oil burned his face. He tried to wipe it off as best he could. He was left blinded with his burnt face becoming puckered and red. The hot soft pieces of fish were swimming in the blood.

I took the knife from Finland's chest. I practically gigged as more of his blood bubbled up. I drove the knife again and again into the bigger man's chest. Drops of blood sprinkled my face and clothes. Sweden stopped squirming and went completely still with the twist of my knife. It was such a wonderful and refreshing feeling. To be soaked in the blood of the people who cared for you when all you gave them was cold indifference.

**AN: I don't even know how I managed to write this. My poor SuFin ;-; My imagination is sick...**


	3. Nordic Killing Spree

"And he hasn't said a word since?"

"No. No one has been able to get any information out him since we found him."

"England was always so much better at this detective work. If only we could get a hold of him."

I flinched at the mention of my deadbeat brother. No. I couldn't let him take me down. It should be a sin to feel this good. I could feel the grin I had suppressed for so long creep back on my face.

"Ugh, damn! I'm no good at thinking tonight."

"Denmark, I seriously doubt you can think."

"Ha! Then it looks like I surprised you again, Norway!"

"Denmark, I'm not quite sure if this is some new type of sarcasm you just invented or if you really are just that-"

"So, where is Sealand now?"

"He was covered in their blood. I made him take a bath. Luckily, he's just the size you were not too long ago, Iceland. I'm letting him wear one of your old sailor suits, little brother."

I felt sickeningly clean. I wanted more blood. I wanted to sail though a sea of blood.

"Do-don't call me that!"

"Why not? It's true. You should start calling me big brother as well."

"There's just something about Sealand that makes me feel uneasy. Why did he have so much blood on him? And why can't we find the knife that murdered Sweden and Finland?"

"I don't know. Maybe the murderer took it with them?"

"Belarus usually has a knife on her. And Hungary is known for wielding a frying pan. Maybe they worked together on this."

"That's ridiculous, Denmark."

"Well, I don't see you coming up with better ideas," the speaker sighed. "Maybe Sealand was the one to do it after all."

There was a moment of silence. I grabbed the bloody knife from the hidden pocket in my hat.

"Really, Denmark that's absurd. He's just a child! Do you really think he'd be able to bring down someone like Sweden?"

"I didn't think anyone could bring down Sweden. But, you know what? He's dead. Someone did it, and I want to know who."

"We all do, Denmark."

More silence. I laid in wait in the dark corer of the hallway.

"Look, I'm tired. I think I'll just crash here tonight."

I heard Denmark's footsteps come closer to where I was hiding. He stopped and squinted into the darkness.

"Hey! Just what are you..."

I plunged the knife into Denmark's thigh, creating a gash as he fell to his knees. He tried to yell out, but I clamped his mouth and nose shut. He struggled for air, flailing about in pain like a fish. He would die after a moment or two this way, but where was the fun in that? There would be hardly any blood.

I had kept the knife in my hand. I brought it to his throat. It sliced cleanly and easily. It sprayed out all around, hardly any soaked up by his clothes.

"It's too quiet... Even when he's by himself, Denmark talks more than this."

"Maybe he's just tired, Norway."

"This isn't like him. Something's wrong."

"Look, it's been a long night. I don't blame him for not wanting to talk mindlessly like he usually does."

"I think I should go check up on him." I heard Norway get up from the couch.

"Oh...I guess I've suspected this much. You and Denmark need some alone time."

I heard Norway thump Iceland on the back of his head. "Shut up."

Norway's footsteps were lighter than Denmark's. It was harder to hear him coming. We both heard the light splish as Norway stepped in Denmark's blood. Norway's face twisted from his usual indifference to that of horror as he looked down at his shoes.

By the time he looked back up, it was too late. I drove the knife into the soft spot on the side of his head, just an inch from his cross clip. His eye rolled back, and he fell to the ground when I took out the knife. Blood flowed from the one point of penetration, mixing with the blood of Denmark.

I abandoned the hallway along with my latest victims. Iceland was sitting on the couch eating some licorice. He turned his head slightly when he heard my footsteps.

"What? You really expected me to do something?" Iceland asked.

I was obviously wasn't his intended recipient. His eyes went wide with terror when he saw me in my state. He tried to get up, but I pulled his collar to the back of the couch. I sliced his neck as I had with Denmark. His white bow around his neck was dyed a lovely shade of red. Get it? Died! Heh heh...heh heh heh.

I was all alone once again with no one left to kill. No one else to hold me back. Maybe it was about time for me to go find my "big brother."


	4. End of a Massacre

I stared quizzically at my phone. Sweden and Finland were dead? That and Gilbird mysteriously exploding earlier yesterday lead me with one common factor. But I didn't want to believe it. What would drive Sealand to do something this horrific?

I needed to call them back. They had no idea what sort of danger they were in. Sealand had gone off the deep end. None of them were safe. I called back Norway's phone number. No response. I tried again with Iceland and Denmark. None of them answered.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. There was no need for me to jump to conclusions. As long as they stuck together, they should be find. Either way, I'd need to get home as soon as possible.

I set down the movies I had been planning to watch with America. I felt bad for keeping him cooped up all day, but he was really sick. I knew the extended edition of Lord of the Rings always made me feel better. But each one was over 3 hours, and I simply didn't have the time anymore.

"America, I need to..." I said as I opened his bedroom door.

His room was empty. The breeze from the open window blew the curtains out. The tv was left blaring. The scones I had left him for breakfast remained untouched.

"Damn it, America..." I said to myself. He was sick and managed to sneak out of his house. He'd never get better if he kept doing this. Where could he have possibly gone?

I heard a crash. He wasn't trying to sneak back in, was he? Honestly, he could just use the front door. I walked back the way I came.

"America, I..."

I immediately had to duck. A round disc shattered over my head. Sharp little plastic bits settled into my hair. Some of the bigger chunks landed on the floor. Recognized it as one of my Lord of the Rings movies.

I looked up to see who had ruined one of my favorite movies. It was Sealand, and he had all of them gathered up in his arms.

"Sealand! What are you doing here?"

Another movie came hurtling at my face. I had to think of how many discs he had at his disposal. There were four discs per film. He had used two already, meaning I still had to dodge ten more.

"I came to see you, England. Is that so wrong? For brothers to want to be together?"

At together, he sent two more hurtling my way. I had to crawl out of the way. The little shards were digging into my knees.

"Sealand, stop this! Why are you doing this?"

"You know exactly why I'm doing this." Three more. There was a moment of silence as Sealand tried to collect himself. His eyes were strained and red. He had giant purple bags under his eyes. He must not have slept a wink on his way over here. His sailor outfit was unfamiliar to me and was painted with various hues of red blood.

"You just had to feed me fishsticks."

I was surprised at his answer. "That's no reason to be upset! I know several people who like..."

I moved out of the way as another DVD came. "THEY WERE FROZEN!" Sealand shouted. He threw the rest of them, save for one, at me.

I had no place to dodge. All I could do was keep my arms crossed in front of me. My forearms stung as the plastic like glass cut through my sleeves and first few layers of skin. When I brought my arms back down, I discreetly grabbed a large shard in order to defend myself. The edges cut my fingers as I gripped it tightly.

"How could you do that to me? I was your brother, and the best you could think of me was a plate of frozen processed food!" Tears streamed down Sealand's face. "But America! You would leave me and go to America! You even let him become a real country! Why do you love him more than me?"

I chose my words carefully. I was dealing with a psychopath with the temper of a child. He blocked the straightaway to the front door. "I do love you, Sealand. The only reason I didn't cook for you is because I didn't want to cause you harm. I didn't want my cooking to make you sick. I cooked for America, and now he's sick. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened to you."

Sealand sniffled and lowered his arms. "Now let's go home," I continued. "I'll see to it that you're made into a country straight away."

"You lie," Sealand said finally."You don't think I'll ever be a real country, do you?" He smashed the last movie at his feet and drew a knife. It looked like one that you would use for cutting fish. Or not. Pretty much all knives looked the same to me.

"Do you know how many countries I killed because of you? I don't need your approval. If you can't see me as the great country of Sealand, then I guess I'll just have to kill you too!"

Sealand ran towards me, blade aiming for my heart. I would bring out my shard at just the right moment to stop Sealand on his rampage.

The air was stilled by the sound of a gunshot. Sealand stopped a few feet in front of me. He looked down at the shard I held in my bloody hand. He looked back up to my face, a still sadness settling in. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He gave one last scratchy gasp and collapsed in front of me.

He was dead. My little brother was dead. His murderer opened the front door and let himself in.

He looked around at the disarray of the house and wiped the snot dripping from his nose.

"England, what did you do? You didn't have a party without me, did you?" he said in a stuffed up voice.

"I didn't do anything! Why the hell did you fire your gun?" My voice cracked.

"I forgot the door was locked. I needed some way to get back in," America said, stuffing his gun back in his holster.

"You could have come back in the way you left. You left your window wide open and the tv blaring. You clearly aren't thinking straight. You shouldn't have left while you were still so sick." My eyes travelled to each brother. So much different. One adult. One child. One alive. One dead.

"Oh, right. England you would never believe what was in tv. Some really weird homicide up north! I just had to check it out. These two girls, they both had names that started with an A. One was like a season or something. The other reminded me of pretzels. Anyway, both of their faces were smashed in by a skateboard. It was like they had a face transplant or something. They were just left to die up there in the snow. Oh, and a goldfish. It didn't get hit by a skateboard but it was hit by a delicious chicken sandwich. The poor sandwich."

"America, you are utterly incomprehensible."

"I just hope they catch the murderer soon. Man, if I wasn't so sick, I'd be a hero, catch that sick sonuvabitch, and bring him to justice!"

"I think you already did that."

America finally noticed the dead boy in between me and him.

"Oh my god! Is that Sealand? Is he dead?"

"Yeah, you killed him when you shot the lock off the front door."

"Oh no, I am so so sorry!"

"Don't be. He's the murderer you've been looking for. He was probably the one behind that weird case you found. And he's the culprit for the murder of the five Nordics and a cute fluffy bird."

"I'm not quite sure I understand. Who in their right mind could do all this. All this mindless random killing."

"Someone driven to the edge," I answered sadly. "Someone who didn't have their way for far too long. Someone who felt cheated and victimized for most of their life. It's sad to say, I could have prevented this if I paid attention to Sealand more. That and if I hadn't served him fishsticks for lunch."

**AN: Thank you for reading this far! This day has been one for many surprises! Thank you so much for reviewing! Fanfiction was being weird today and said no one was reading this. I knew that wasn't true because I got all of your lovely reviews. So thanks again. This is the end of this little crack tragedy. I had a little too much fun making it. Jackson Hanning I hope you learned your lesson :P**


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